Song of the Week: "Drowning" (Avicii Remix)

Don't get fancy, just get trance-y.

"Drowning" (Avicii Remix) -- Armin van Buuren feat. Laura V.

Hiking Wolchul Mountain

Wolchul Mountain (월출산) is located in Mt. Wolchulsan National Park and spans across Gangjin and Yeongam Counties. The name Wolchulsan means "mountain where the moon rises." Cheonghwangbong Peak rises to 808.7 meters and marks the highest point in Gangjin County.

A group of about 30 foreign language (English, Chinese) teachers set out on Saturday morning to hike Mount Wolchul. Most hikers only went to Cloud Bridge, which is about 1-2km from the parking lot. A handful of brave souls hiked ~3km to the peak. Joanne and I were 2 of them. "Let's go to the peak. We've come all this way. It can't be that far!"

Tired already, taking a break.

At this point, we are no where near the peak.

Endless stairs

Taking another break for a photo-op

Stopped by a waterfall on the way up

As we climbed higher, the view became more beautiful. Jagged rocks nestled in lush green foliage. Silhouettes of rolling hills and distant mountains overcast by haze on the vanishing horizon. In the nearer vicinity, we could see perfect rectangles of flat land allotted for agriculture. Jeollanam-do is known for its farmland, and there was no doubt about that from where we stood on Mt. Wolchul.

Cloud Bridge on the other side of the mountain

No one warned us about snakes!

6 Brothers Rocks

Almost near the peak. Hot & tired, but determined!

Finally at the top!

Panoramic view from the top of Mt. Wolchul

Panoramic view from the top of Mt. Wolchul

Champs!

Joanne & me with some fellow English teachers. 

We took a break to take in the scenery and rest our throbbing legs. Snacked on some granola bars and sipped on water, while conversing with some fellow English teachers, who intercepted us on the way up. Then we made our way back down. At the fork in the road, we could either hike back the 2.7km that we came or hike around the other side: 1.4km to Cloud Bridge, then another 2km to the parking lot. We decided to visit Cloud Bridge, a 52-meter suspension bridge that hovers 120-meters high. The second route proved to be more strenuous because 1.) we were already exhausted and 2.) the "path" of rocks & boulders climbed up and down.

I think I should emphasize how difficult this hike really was (especially non-hikers like Joanne and myself!) The trail consisted of endless rocks & boulders that only grew steeper and more challenging as the hike ensued. Some areas were so difficult that there were metal rails and/or thick ropes built in for hikers to hoist themselves over slick boulders, awkward gaps, and around larger stones. Bleary-eyed and light-headed, all I could feel was the dust and sweat-soaked sunblock caked onto my slowly-browning skin. Running low on bottled water and physical energy, Joanne and I realized on our way to Cloud Bridge that we overestimated our abilities to trek this mountain. The hike felt impossible!

Many grunts and "Si, se puede!"s later, we finally made it to Cloud Bridge.

It's like Korea's Golden Gate Bridge!

We did it!

The hike down the Wolchulsan was brutal. With every stride we took, we had to decide which rock would be the safest to walk on or the most advantageous step forward. Our legs wobbled like jell-o. Some rocks were slippery with gravel, so we clung to rails, ropes, and trees to give our legs a break. At times we felt like Tarzan swinging from tree to tree.

Seafood pancake (해물 파전) and strawberry ice-cream never tasted so good. Joanne and I sat with some other English teachers outside of a restaurant at the base of Wolchul Mountain. That night we also treated ourselves to a Caffe Tiamo banana split with chocolate & strawberry gelato. Delicioso!

Banana split from Caffe Tiamo with chocolate & strawberry gelato

When I woke up on Sunday, my legs felt like they had been run over by a train. I couldn't move them, much less get out of bed. Laying down on my back was uncomfortable because the bed pushed into my calves, while resting on my stomach hurt because the mattress put pressure on my quads. I couldn't bend my knees because that movement would flex my quads. I couldn't bend my toes because that motion would stretch my calves. I could barely sit down on the toilet (because that required me to bend my knees) and ended up stumbling around my one-room apartment room like Barbie with a stick up her butt. It was a beautiful day, but there was no way I was leaving my room.

Luckily, Monday was a public holiday: Buddha's Birthday. I wandered out of my apartment for the first time since Saturday to read outside with Joanne.

What fine intellectuals!

Taking the stairs and shuffling over small inclines was painful. We waddled around like the old folks that we see in Mokpo everyday. I iced my legs and applied pain patches, so they feel a lot better. Just in time for tomorrow's provincial cultural trip to ...

... wait for it ...

JEJU!!!!!

My friends and I have waited anxiously for this trip, and now it's finally here! 3 days, 2 nights all-paid vacation to Korea's Hawaii. We don't even have to make up our work hours. Our 1-hour flight departs late tomorrow morning from Gwangju Airport. Can't wait!

The Decision

Huge decisions that involve relocating are never easy to make. I remember once upon a time I didn't even know if I wanted to come to Korea. The application was so frustrating and I wasn't sure if I was going to be packing my bags or back on the job hunt. But at the very last minute, even after orientation had began, I opened my full acceptance e-mail and knew I would be in for an interesante experience.

Extension applications are due at the end of May. I privately mulled over the idea of extending for another 6 months, hoping that I would come to a decision by the time renewal information was released. When that time passed, I turned to my friends for their opinions. Most friends -- both staying and leaving -- encouraged me to stay: "The special circumstance of living in Korea is temporary, why not hold onto it for a little while longer." "LA will always be there." "You can make more money." "You get to travel." "There are no jobs back home." "You have nothing else to do." "Time passes quickly. What's another 6 months?" Lots of valid arguments, despite the notion of what I felt was right, yet was too afraid to argue against the opinions of the majority. For one, I don't like teaching. If I enjoyed teaching, I would have minored in Education. It's as simple as that. Two, I don't really like kids. I thought that would change, but I think this program has just validated my disinterest. Maybe that will change later. Maybe the language barrier skewed my perspective. Maybe not. Three, Winter sucks. I think that Winter was the worst 6 months of my life. If I had to do that again, I would give up all hope in humanity. And life. And kittens.

Interestingly enough, one person straight up told me to go home: my best friend. This is a person who I talk to on a regular basis and whose opinion I really value, maybe more so than the opinions of 100 of my other friends. She told me that money wasn't everything and that I'm too young to be stuck doing something that I don't enjoy. It's true.

I initially set out to Korea to fulfill a laundry list of loose-ended goals: Take a break from academics. Travel. Separate myself from America. Explore a different culture. Meet new people. Find employment. Live on my own. Visit Japan. Grow as an individual.

I say "loose-ended" because all of these goals were more or less fulfilled when I got into the Super Shuttle, save the last two. But like kimchi, I needed time for the experience to ferment and become the flavorful side dish on the table of my early twenties.

I keep a hand-written journal in addition to this blog. It's actually more of an idea book that I received from Annie & Emily when I graduated from Oxy. The purpose is to carry it around and write in it when you suddenly have an idea. I kept it with me for the first 5 months and jotted down cultural observations as I sat on long bus rides or scribbled long passages questioning Korean popular culture. Eventually I either ran out of ideas or lost interest in writing anything down (I blame Winter) and forgot about the book for 4 whole months. After rereading all of my entries, I realized that my personal development --that self actualization-- came 6 months ago, but I just didn't realize it until now. My former self told my future self to leave Korea after my contract ended. Who would know me better than my previous self? At any rate, I have come to accept Korea for what it is (completely illogical) and scarcely turn to the journal to vent my qualms. Life is becoming comfortably mundane. I am no longer challenging the dominant culture, therefore I am no longer challenging myself.

Alas, it is time for a new adventure: unemployment! Who doesn't experience unemployment sooner or later? New job responsibilities. New friends. New challenges. But nothing gets better than the warm Cali sun. Even though it's technically Spring in Korea, the past few days have been chilly and overcast. Damn Korea. Can't wait to reunite with the warmth!

Lastly, Korean culture determines people's ages in accordance with the Lunar New Year. Ever since I arrived, I've been programmed to say that I am 23 years old. In February, I turned 24. Lies! I'm not that old. When I go back to America, I am going to be 22 again. I often forget that I am so young because of the way age is constructed in Korean society. When I go home, I will still be younger than most of my friends were when they initially arrived in Korea. So technically, I am well ahead of the game. Yerrrp,  no time will have been lost, and I am going to re-experience LA with a fresh set of eyes. Salsa is going to run through my veins, guacamole is going to come out of ears, and refried beans are going to come out of the yin-yang. It's going to be awesome.

SUMMER 2012!!!

"Summer Nights" performed by Lil Rob

The Perks of Spring

Warm weather means more signs of life. I started to go jogging on the path by the river. It's always peaceful to see the ducks in the morning. Aflac.

Jogging at Sunset

*waddle waddle*
Joanne and I went on a walk with the ducks.

Aflac.

Vibrant pink & purple flowers blossomed for a couple short weeks, then withered away.

Butterflies on the walk to school

My students like to decorate my life with ribbons & bows.
They also leave scraps of tissue paper everywhere!

Postcard from my friends in Boston  :)

Here's a puppy that we see on the way to school.

He currently lives in a rabbit cage.

This puppy got SWAG. Gold chain around his neck.
What's up dawwg?!

Cinco de Mayo at Tequilaz Restaurant in Gwangju.
15,000W Mexican buffet included burritos, enchiladas, chips, a drink, and margarita pie.

Huevos Rancheros at First Alleyway in Gwangju.
This meal reminded me of Sunday brunch at Oxy.

Field Daze

May called. She wants her sun back!

This week, my friends and I stood by for field day, or "Sports Day," at our respective elementary schools. All of the students, teachers, and even parents congregated at a local park and participated in team activities facilitated by an external organization. Not sure if all schools follow this protocol because Daebul's student body is bigger than other schools'. My school boasts 300+ students, while most other schools consist of 50 students (give or take a couple dozen).

We arrived at the park by 9am or so. Most kids wore white sweaters and sweatpants and put on red or blue jerseys to indicate which team they were on. From a distance, you'd think that they were donning America's red, white, & blue ... but Korea's national colors are also red, white, and blue (and black!)

Students lined up by grade, waiting for Sports Day to begin

1st grader

1st grader

2nd grader

3rd graders

Me: Make a funny face!
Them: *confused*

4th graders

The opening ceremony lasted almost an hour. I'm calling it an "opening ceremony" for lack of a better term.  Maybe it was a prolonged introduction. The students marched up and down the field. At some point, everyone closed their eyes and tilted their heads down. They spoke the pledge of allegiance with their right hands over their hearts. I remember doing the pledge of allegiance once upon a time. Do they still enforce that in American elementary schools?

The parents sat on plastic tarps that they brought and set up on the perimeters of the park. I randomly sat on the grass and wished I had a tarp. Where was everyone else sitting? An hour later, I realized that my school's administration was sitting together comfortably on chairs, under a tent, in front of the Sports Day procession. I nonchalantly meandered over there to find two of the office staff eating pork belly, tofu, and kimchi and drinking makoli (rice wine, 막걸리). They invited me over to join them, and I kindly obliged

VIDEO: Students marching up and down the field

VIDEO: Snippet from the Opening Ceremony

Lining up Red vs. Blue for the first activity

The guy in the yellow was our host/facilitator

Our host exuded a lot of energy and an upbeat attitude. He sported a curly perm, most commonly seen on older women and young children whose parents think that toddler perms are a cute idea. Bright yellow t-shirt. Lime green pants. And the Korean flag for a skirt. The combinations that Korean people wear in public never cease to baffle me.

The sky grew progressively darker until it started pouring. The kids gathered under two tents across the field, while the heaviest rain passed. Not everyone fit under those tents, so parents opened their umbrellas to create more coverage. The festivities ensued despite the rain.

Parachute activity

Parachute activity

Parachute activity

The host tallied up the colored red & blue pieces after the kids scrambled to flip them over during a timed period

Relay race

Everyone took a lunch break before resuming the games. The teachers and staff ate Korean food as usual. Kimchi, rice, and side dishes -- all day, e'rrryday. Sports Day ended with a raffle giving away heaps of prizes wrapped in red Lotte gift wrap or tucked away in gift bags. The kids took shelter under the tents across the field, while the facilitator read off names from the teacher's tent. Then the kids needed to run across the muddy field and through the rain to claim their prizes. It was pretty hilarious.

One of my 2nd grade students won and excitedly ran across the field. The gift required both of her arms to carry, so when she turned to run back, she folded in half because the box weighed down her entire upper body. Everyone laughed as a teacher came to her rescue and helped her back across the field.

Luckily for me, I didn't have to play nor teach English that day. Just went home early and took a nap. Pretty awesome by my standards!